


fallen, the snow and i

by wolfsupremacist



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 19:56:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17127755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfsupremacist/pseuds/wolfsupremacist
Summary: he would never forgive himself if he proposed on christmas eve





	fallen, the snow and i

He doesn’t know what to pack because not a damn thing he owns seems good enough. 

“You’re being dramatic,” Sehun says. “You’re, like, a parent’s wet dream.” 

“Saying _parent_ and _wet dream_ in the same sentence should be illegal,” Kyungsoo says, sifting through the dense layer of clothes covering his bed, save for the spot where Sehun is sitting. 

“Oh. Well then you should lock me up, officer,” Sehun says, and he puts his wrists out in front of him, smiles at Kyungsoo coyly, batting his eyelashes. 

“God, I really don’t like that you’re cute,” Kyungsoo says. “You’re supposed to be helping, you know.” 

“There’s nothing for me to do!” Sehun says. 

“You could, I don’t know, tell me what to bring,” Kyungsoo says. “I’m fucking hopeless with this shit, and you know that about me.”

Sehun sighs, put upon, and Kyungsoo smiles. 

“Are you ready?” Sehun asks. “Cause I’m only gonna do this once.” 

“Ready, Freddie,” Kyungsoo says. 

“That black turtleneck, the white cashmere, the one dark blue and green flannel. Both pairs of khakis, and the dark wash jeans. The black belt and the dark brown. A sweatshirt and sweatpants. Three undershirts. Three pairs of boxer-briefs. Three pairs of dress socks. Two pairs of boot socks. Dress shoes, your snow boots. That pompom hat I got you. A scarf, maybe? That tartan one would be cute,” Sehun lists off, pointing at the items as he goes. 

Kyungsoo hurriedly shoves everything into his bag at the foot of the bed. 

“And make sure you bring your glasses,” Sehun says. “You look stupid smart with those. They’ll eat that shit up.” 

“See,” Kyungsoo says. “Now wasn’t that easier than me wasting another twenty minutes?” 

Sehun surges up, drags Kyungsoo in by the collar, and kisses him. It is good, so fucking good. He can quiet Kyungsoo’s nerves so easily this way. 

“Shut up,” Sehun says quietly, and he pulls them both flat onto the bed, bodies pressed together, content to waste those twenty minutes with something else. Something better.  
  


☆

They pack the car in the early frost-covered morning, the little puffs of white air coming from Sehun’s mouth charming even in the darkness.

“Is that it?” Sehun asks, and he looks up to the sky, an eyebrow cocked, as if he’s checking off items from a mental list. 

“That is it,” Kyungsoo says. 

“You’re sure?” Sehun asks. 

“There is only one thing I am sure about, and it’s packing,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Oh, please,” Sehun says, and he pushes Kyungsoo against the car. “You’re not still worried about this.” 

“Of course I’m worried,” Kyungsoo says. “Any sane person would be.” 

“So then why are you?” Sehun asks, and it earns him a slap to the butt. “Ow.” 

“Be nice to me,” Kyungsoo says. 

“I’m always nice to you,” Sehun says, and he works his gloved hands up and under Kyungsoo’s coat, under his sweater, brushing against the bare skin along the small of his back. 

“ _Stop_ ,” Kyungsoo hisses quietly, and Sehun smirks, withdraws his hands. 

Kyungsoo hugs him close, buries his face in Sehun’s chest. 

“What if they don’t like me?” Kyungsoo whispers. 

“They’ve already met you,” Sehun says. “They like you.” 

“The only time they met me as a _boyfriend_ was at a wedding,” Kyungsoo says. “And they were super drunk.” 

“So they’ll have fond memories of you,” Sehun says, and Kyungsoo can hear the smile as Sehun squeezes him tight. 

“This is different,” Kyungsoo says. “Three days. For Christmas.” 

“Yep,” Sehun says. “Three days. For Christmas.” 

Kyungsoo pulls back sharply. 

“Be serious,” he says, poking Sehun in the chest. 

“I am being serious,” Sehun says. “You just have absolutely nothing to worry about.” 

“Why do you say that?” 

Sehun smiles at him fondly, closed-mouth and still perfect.

“Because you’re you,” Sehun says. 

Kyungsoo makes a noise of disbelief. 

“If I had to bet on a person,” Sehun says, “I’d always bet on you.” 

They share a quiet moment there, the bustle of the dark, snow-covered city singing like cicadas. 

“You’re corny,” Kyungsoo says, grateful for it. 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “Guess I just like you a bunch or whatever.” 

That sits across Kyungsoo like a weighted blanket for the whole drive, and he finds it’s a lot harder to be worried that way, even with the velvet-covered box in his pocket.  
  


☆

“Pull in, pull in, pull in, pull in,” Sehun whines.

“I am going as fast as I can,” Kyungsoo says. “You should have told me a half hour ago.” 

“I didn’t have to _go_ a half hour ago,” Sehun says. 

“You need to plan things better,” Kyungsoo says. 

“I swear to God, if I am about to be lectured about my urinary habits, you will never be allowed to even _think_ about hitting my prostate again, you hear me?” Sehun bitches. 

The car slows, and Sehun is out of the door before it fully stops, running like a fool into the Starbucks. Kyungsoo follows with a smile on his face. He stands in the admittedly short line and orders a couple hot chocolates before Sehun emerges. 

“Empty?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“God, yes,” Sehun moans loudly. “I have never had a better piss in my life.” 

A woman nearby turns, and Sehun smiles at her. God, Kyungsoo...Kyungsoo really fucking likes him. 

“Did you order something?” he asks, giddy like a kid on Christmas. _Fitting_ , Kyungsoo thinks. 

“Snickerdoodle hot chocolate,” Kyungsoo says. “Sounded gross.” 

“Man,” Sehun says, and he grabs Kyungsoo’s hand, laces their fingers together. “You’re cool.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Kyungsoo says, but he has to hide his smile, lest Sehun make fun of him for the next hour of the ride.  
  


☆

He is beginning to lose his fucking mind.

“Stop,” he says. “No more, please.” 

“ _I spy_ ,” Sehun continues, “with my little eye, something that is...white.” 

“It’s not funny anymore,” Kyungsoo says. “It wasn’t funny the first time you said it, and the tenth time you say it? Shockingly, it is still not funny.” 

“Guess,” Sehun says delightedly. 

Kyungsoo sighs. 

“Snow,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Bingo!” Sehun says. “Babe, you are so fucking good at this game.” 

“It’s a really good thing we’re not coming up on a bridge anytime soon because I think I would drive us off it,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Your turn, your turn,” Sehun cheers. 

Lord help him, but he’ll always play along.  
  


☆

In the closing hour of their drive, Sehun falls asleep. It’s hard to watch him when he should be devoting all his attention to the mess of traffic in front of him, but Sehun looks so peaceful, so angelic when he’s asleep that it’s hard not to steal every moment he can.

The snow has slowed, and the roads are salted well, so altogether, it could be worse. He taps his fingers on the wheel as he drives. The one thing that really gets him in the Christmas spirit is the music, so he quietly changes the station from the sad boy indie rock stuff Sehun likes to a local station playing carols. He tries his best not to sing along, wanting Sehun to sleep, but after a while, it’s difficult. 

He hums along to the song on the radio, and sure enough, Sehun stirs, blinking wildly before shooting Kyungsoo an angry look. 

“What?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“You let me sleep,” Sehun says. “What the fuck.” 

“Oh, yeah, fuck me, right?” Kyungsoo says. “Worst boyfriend ever.” 

“Yes, we’re in agreement,” Sehun says, crossing his arms. “I didn’t wanna make you drive by yourself.” 

Kyungsoo looks over for a second, sees him pouting. 

“Stop,” Kyungsoo laughs. 

“Fine,” Sehun says. “I guess I’ll have to make it up to you somehow.” 

There is enough mischief in his voice that Kyungsoo doesn’t need to see his face to understand, and _no, never_.

“Whatever you’re thinking, shove it way back in your head, baby,” Kyungsoo says. “Back into your brainstem, even.” 

“The house is huge!” Sehun says. “You can’t be serious.” 

“Serious as a heart attack,” Kyungsoo says. “We will not be fucking in the state of Maine.” 

“Yes, but I am in the state of denial,” Sehun says. “So there. Loophole, bitch.” 

Sehun folds his arms, and Kyungsoo watches through his peripherals. 

“Not even head?” Sehun asks. 

“Not even head,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Why are we doing this again?” Sehun asks. 

“Because family is important,” he replies. 

“Not this important,” Sehun grumbles.  
  


☆

“There,” Sehun points.

And Kyungsoo pulls the car up the winding drive that’s lined with white. Sehun’s family lives off the harbor, the home a shingled cottage design. Kyungsoo doesn’t know too much about the area, only what Sehun’s told him of his childhood here, but it is picturesque, pristine. The home is lined with soft yellow-white Christmas lights, candles in the windows. A large barn in the back of the residence, stuck to the side of the spacious backyard.

“Jesus,” Kyungsoo says. 

“The reason for the season,” Sehun says, and Kyungsoo slaps him. 

When they park, Sehun leans across the console, planting a kiss on Kyungsoo’s cheek. They’ve known each other for five years, been dating for a year and a half and still, something as small as a kiss is able to turn him inside out with joy. 

“Let’s get inside,” Sehun says. “It’s fucking freezing.” 

He throws his door open with the reckless abandon reserved for when he’s really excited. It’s been a while since he’s been home. He must miss it. Kyungsoo tries to keep the fondness off his face. Struggles mightily. 

They load themselves up with suitcases, boxes, and bags, and they head inside, Kyungsoo following behind Sehun. The interior of the home is even more beautiful than the exterior, if that’s possible: it is warm with light, with the scent of fresh pine, and boughs are hung from the staircase. He can see the glow of the Christmas tree even from the foyer. Christmas music filters in through a hall, and Kyungsoo can smell the butter of sugar cookies in the oven. He looks around, sees family portraits hung on the walls. He spots a small Sehun: same eyes, same smile. 

“Don’t look at that shit,” Sehun says. 

“But you’re so cute,” Kyungsoo says. 

Sehun groans, dropping all the stuff in his arms to the ground.

“I’m home!” he calls. 

“In here,” a female voice says. Sehun’s mother. 

“Come on,” Sehun says, and he starts pulling on Kyungsoo’s arm. 

“I don’t wanna...I don’t wanna make a mess here,” Kyungsoo says. “I’ll go put our stuff in the room.” 

“You’re stalling,” Sehun says. 

“I’m doing no such thing,” Kyungsoo argues. 

Sehun grins, huddles close. Takes Kyungsoo by the neck. 

“You’re gonna be fine,” Sehun says. “You’re the wet dream, baby.” 

“God,” Kyungsoo says, fighting back a grin of his own, “lower your voice.” 

Sehun smiles so wide his eyes close, dips down and kisses Kyungsoo softly, chastely. 

“Fine,” Kyungsoo says, setting all their things down. “Let’s go.” 

Sehun smiles the way he always does when he’s gotten his way, smug but pretty all the same. 

Sehun leads him, and Kyungsoo follows through to the kitchen, and he immediately gets a little pit of dread in his stomach when he sees her bent over at the oven door. _What if she hates me? What if she doesn’t think I’m good enough for him? What if I’m not good enough for him?_

“Mom,” Sehun says. “This is Kyungsoo.” 

She turns, smiles the same charming smile that Sehun has, and all his fears turn to dust. 

“Oh my god,” she says, throwing a tray of cookies down to the stove. “Hi, hi, hi.” 

She grabs Kyungsoo into a hug. 

“Welcome,” she says, pulling back to smile at him more. “It’s so nice to officially meet you.” 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo smiles. “Yeah, you too. Uh, I also, um, I brought you a bottle of wine. As a thank you gift. You know, for letting me stay and everything. I really appreciate it.” 

“Oh, I love you,” she says before turning to Sehun. “I love him.” 

“I know,” Sehun smirks. “Same.” 

“Let me tell you all about when Sehun was little,” she says, and she puts her arm around his neck. “He was such a cutie.” 

“What happened, right?” Kyungsoo deadpans. 

His mother snorts a laugh, immediately slapping a hand over her mouth. 

“Oh my god,” she says. “You shouldn't have brought that gift. I've had too much wine, I’m sorry.” 

“No,” Kyungsoo says. “It’s cute. Runs in the family obviously.” 

“Can you stop flirting with my mom right here in front of me?” Sehun asks, arms folded. 

“Shut up,” she says to Sehun before looking at Kyungsoo, eyes shining. “I really like him.” 

_Thank God_ , Kyungsoo thinks. _Thank God._  
  


☆

The family is super nice. Kyungsoo thinks about it idly as he lies in bed, waiting as Sehun brushes his teeth.

“See, I told you,” Sehun says. “Nothing to worry about.” 

“Well, my khakis are ruined from the packing,” Kyungsoo says. “So at least one fear.” 

Sehun enters the room, jumps onto the bed. Presses maybe a hundred, maybe a million kisses to Kyungsoo’s face. 

“Stop, stop,” Kyungsoo giggles. 

“Is it all better now?” Sehun asks. 

“Is this ironing my pants?” Kyungsoo laughs. 

Sehun gets that look in his eye, the one that says _I’ll take care of it no matter what._

“Here,” Sehun says, levering himself off the bed, “I’ll throw ‘em in with mine to get the wrinkles out.” 

“Sure,” Kyungsoo says thoughtlessly, and then, when he realizes what he’s agreed to, he makes a noise of surprise. “Uh, wait!” 

“What?” Sehun smiles. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, it’s just, uh, I’ll grab them,” Kyungsoo says. 

“You don’t know where the laundry room is,” Sehun laughs. 

Kyungsoo jumps up, grabs both pairs of pants quickly and leaves before Sehun can do anything stupid. 

Because Kyungsoo has carried the ring around with him for a month or two now. It might seem soon to anyone else, but Kyungsoo knows that they’re right for each other. He’s not one to rush something like this. 

He’s just looking for the right time to ask, even though it’s more of a formality than anything. 

He debated leaving the ring at home, but something told him to bring it. 

Kyungsoo wanders the house in his pajama pants looking for the dryer, and it’s worth it, just to keep the surprise.  
  


☆

“I’m gonna run out with my mom this morning,” Sehun says, kissing Kyungsoo on the cheek as they drink their coffee. “Will you be alright by yourself? You can tag along if you really want, but you’d probably be more comfortable here.”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo says. “It’s okay, I can keep busy.” 

Keeping busy comes to mean brushing his fingertips along the velvet of the ring box in his pocket as he stares out over the lake from the window. It is exceptionally pretty, and he knows it’s exceptionally pretty year round: Sehun’s mother showed him enough pictures to know for a fact. 

It’s been really good so far, no hiccups at all, not even through dinner the night before. They seem to like him fine, and it appears as though all his worries were for naught. Maybe he can even ask for Sehun’s ha— 

The door slams. Kyungsoo jumps, turning. 

“Mind giving us a hand?” Sehun’s father asks. 

“No, of course not,” Kyungsoo says. Of course, he knows better than to turn down helping. 

“Atta boy,” he says, clapping Kyungsoo on the shoulder. 

He and Sehun’s father and brother haul in cases and cases of beer, bottles of wine, of liquor. It is more than any family could drink in a lifetime, he thinks, so he wonders where it’s all going. 

Sehun and his mother return not long after they finish, and when they burst through the doors, their arms are full of shopping bags, and Kyungsoo helps them unload the groceries into the refrigerator. 

“Sorry,” Sehun says. “The big shopping trip is always the worst, so I figured I’d spare you.” 

“Thank you for helping, sweetheart,” his mother says. “You know you don’t have to, right?” 

“Oh, it’s no trouble,” Kyungsoo says. “I don’t mind.” 

Sehun’s mother kisses him on the cheek. 

“Keep this one,” she says to Sehun before walking out, back to get more bags from the car. 

They keep quiet until she is gone, and then Sehun crosses to him. 

“What’s going on?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“I guess I should have mentioned. We have a big party on Christmas Eve,” Sehun says quietly. “But if you hate that, we can always crash in the barn. There’s like, an old television and a VHS player and a bed, and we can just like, I don’t know. VHS and chill.” 

“Shut up,” Kyungsoo says, and he laces his fingers with Sehun’s. “A party is fine.” 

“If you ever feel uncomfortable…” 

“I’ll let you know,” Kyungsoo smiles. “You’re the best.” 

“Aw,” Sehun says. “That’s you, baby. But uh, actually, I forgot to get something for my brother, so if you wouldn’t mind…” 

“We have to go to a store?” Kyungsoo says. “I thought you were being thoughtful. Are you fucking nuts?” 

“Yeah, but like, in a super cute way?” Sehun says like he hopes it’s true. 

Fortunately, or unfortunately, it is true. And it always has been.  
  


☆

The arrangements for the party are more exhausting than the party itself, Kyungsoo finds. He acts as sous chef to Sehun’s mom, and he aids her in all the prep work that he possibly can. He keeps thinking about bringing up his plans, but he never does, always chickening out just at the last moment.

“You’re not nervous, right?” Sehun asks from the shower as Kyungsoo dresses. 

“No,” Kyungsoo says. “Well, a little nervous.” 

“Normal amount of nervous, right?” Sehun amends. 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo smiles, happy to have found someone who understands him so well. 

The party is raucous for the first several hours, the Christmas music thumping through the speakers. The spread of food and drink is truly sumptuous, and suddenly, all the frantic preparation makes sense. Charcuterie, crudite, mini quiches, bruschetta. Spinach and artichoke dip. Good lord, it’s good enough that he thinks he could bathe in it. 

Sehun keeps a drink in his hand, but they pace themselves, grab plates of food and cups of water throughout the night to keep level heads. 

Kyungsoo meets a lot of people, a lot of their family friends and extended family, and he hears a lot of names and remembers at least half. It’s a good time, and he spends it laughing. Telling stories. Poking fun at Sehun when he gets the chance. Sharing the most embarrassing memories he can. 

“You _asshole_ ,” Sehun says, and he slaps Kyungsoo on the shoulder before flopping back onto the couch. “You said you’d never tell anyone about that!” 

“Christmas parties don’t count,” Kyungsoo says sagely. 

“Since when?” Sehun squawks. 

Kyungsoo feels daring for some reason, feels like taking a fucking _risk_ , so he pulls Sehun by the collar to the bathroom downstairs, and he locks the door behind them.

“Whoa,” Sehun says. “Are you drunk?” 

“Just a little tipsy,” Kyungsoo says. 

“And you feel like—” 

“And I feel like kissing the shit out of you,” Kyungsoo says. “So shut up. And just stand there. And be good.” 

“Okay,” Sehun says, bracing himself against the sink. “I will.”  
  


☆

After all the guests have filtered out, stomachs full and armed with new memories, Kyungsoo and Sehun find themselves stationed around the island in the kitchen, sipping at Pinot Noir with the family.

“It was good,” Sehun’s mother says slowly, the wine starting to take its toll. “Really good this year.” 

“Those little stuffed mushrooms,” Sehun’s brother says. “Extremely good.” 

“Yes,” his mother says, turning to face Kyungsoo. “Thank you so much. You really didn’t have to, but I am so glad you did. You’ll have to write down the recipe for me.” 

“Yeah,” he says, pride bursting in his stomach. “Of course.”

“See,” Sehun says. He folds an arm around Kyungsoo’s neck, rubs a fist into Kyungsoo’s hair. “That’s why I keep him.” 

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, and the ribbing continues. It’s a nice way to end the night, this little wind-down. Everything felt—everything felt as good as it could have felt. Near perfect. A perfect Christmas. Why was he so worried? Sehun’s always right. 

“I’ll be right back,” Kyungsoo says, patting Sehun on the hip. “Just gonna run to the bathroom.” 

“Kay,” Sehun says, and he kisses Kyungsoo lushly before Kyungsoo pushes him away. “Don’t get lost, baby.” 

“Alright, I’ll try,” Kyungsoo says. 

He wanders through the halls, the atmosphere so much different than just a few hours prior. It’s calm, much more his speed. And still, he has a strange feeling in his stomach. Not...not anxiety, but something else. Like anticipation. 

He splashes water on his face from the sink and looks at himself in the mirror. 

“No,” he tells himself. “Not tonight.” 

He would never forgive himself if he proposed on Christmas Eve.  
  


☆

When he returns, Sehun’s glass of wine is near empty in his hand, his lips are so, so red, and they are alone.

“I’m not that drunk,” Sehun says, holding up a hand. “I can handle my alcohol.” 

Kyungsoo smiles, eternally charmed, and he crosses back into the kitchen, huddles into Sehun’s body.

“I know, baby,” Kyungsoo says. “That’s why I like you.” 

“Thank God for that,” Sehun says. 

It’s quiet as they stand there, and Kyungsoo’s mind goes everywhere he doesn’t want it to go. _This_ , he thinks. _This_ would be the perfect moment. 

“Where is everyone?” Kyungsoo asks softly. 

“Went to bed,” Sehun says. “And they left us with this mess.” 

Kyungsoo looks around, arms still around Sehun’s waist. There are platters full of crumbs, plates and cups and crumpled up napkins. All the remnants of a good party. 

“Bitches,” Sehun scowls.

“Come on,” Kyungsoo smiles. “We’ll knock this out quick.” 

“Ugh,” Sehun groans, but he allows himself to be pulled. 

They put the dishes in the sink to soak as they load the bag full of trash. After they’ve straightened up, they stand hip to hip at the double sink, Sehun’s hands deep in soapy water. Kyungsoo dutifully dries the dishes after they’re rinsed, and it occurs to him, not for the first time, that they make a very good team, he and Sehun. 

_It’s not the time_ , Kyungsoo thinks. _Just be patient._

“Finally,” Sehun grouses, and he takes Kyungsoo back into his arms. “God, I smell like dish soap.” 

“It’s very sexy,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Don’t tease me,” Sehun says, and he pushes his hips into Kyungsoo’s a bit. 

Kyungsoo smiles, and the music plays softly in the background as they hold each other. 

“Dance with me,” Sehun says. 

“I don’t really—” 

“Dance with me,” Sehun says. 

Kyungsoo puts his arms around Sehun’s neck, Sehun’s hands on Kyungsoo’s waist, and he stares into Sehun’s eyes as they sway together. 

“Good so far?” Sehun asks. “Not too bad?” 

“No,” Kyungsoo says. “Really good.” 

“Good,” Sehun says. “I didn’t want you to hate it.” 

“I don’t,” Kyungsoo says. “Not at all.”

“Good,” Sehun says. 

He leans in, kisses Kyungsoo chastely. Then deeply. Sehun does that. Has the tendency to make everything better just with time. 

They sway, shuffling from side to side in the dim light of the kitchen, and it feels...something about it feels so right, so _perfect_. 

And then Sehun moves. 

“What?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“I—” 

Sehun furrows his brow, hand diving into his pocket. 

“Listen, I don’t know what I’m doing right now, I told myself I wasn’t gonna do something so fucking lame,” Sehun says, sinking to his knees. “God, who am I even? I’m proposing on Christmas Eve? God, I’m a literal nightmare, but you just...you look so beautiful, and I-I know I’m always gonna feel the same about you. And it might evolve, it might change a little, but I’ll always _love_ you. And I’m always gonna wanna grow together. I wanna grow with you because it’ll always be so good. I’ll always love you. I’ll always love you for exactly who you are. Just this. You and me, forever.” 

He breathes in sharply. Did he forget? Kyungsoo smiles. 

“Sehun,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Don’t tell me to stop,” Sehun says. “Please. I know I’m stupid, I know I’m an idiot, but I think—I think we should…” 

Kyungsoo steps forward, reaching into his pocket. 

“What are you doing?” Sehun asks. 

Kyungsoo sinks to his knees in front of Sehun, pulls the ring box from his pocket. And the ring box Sehun holds clatters to the floor. 

“Where are you doing? What—is this a joke?” 

“Are you joking?” Kyungsoo smiles. 

“No, fuck you, I’m not joking,” Sehun says. 

“Well, neither am I.” 

Sehun’s eyes go misty, and he takes Kyungsoo’s hand in his. He walks on his knees. Closes the miniscule gap between them. 

“Is this real?” Sehun asks. “You’re not fooling around? I swear to God, I’ll fucking kill yo—” 

Kyungsoo withdraws, pops the lid on the box to display the white gold band. 

“Oh my god,” Sehun says, a hand against his mouth. “Oh my god.” 

“Are you gonna say yes?” Kyungsoo asks, the ring in his hand. 

And he pulls Sehun’s hand away, holds it between them, the ring poised to slide onto Sehun’s finger. Pauses. He knows Sehun will say yes, but still, he waits. 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, “I’m gonna say yes.” 

Kyungsoo shuts his eyes, soaking it in, before he puts the band where it belongs, circled around Sehun’s ring finger. 

“And what about you, huh?” Sehun asks, trying to act tough as he takes Kyungsoo’s band out of the box, but his voice belies him: he can barely speak through the tears that brim his eyes when he looks up at Kyungsoo. “Are you gonna say yes?” 

Kyungsoo smiles, for it is the only thing for him to do. 

“Yes,” Kyungsoo says. “I’m gonna say yes tonight, and every night for the rest of my life.” 

“S-stop,” Sehun says. “You’re—don’t be sweet, I’m gonna fucking…” 

“Don’t cry,” Kyungsoo says, and he smiles as Sehun makes their hands match. He stares down at their hands laced together, the little glinting silver circles. “God, look at that.” 

“Stop,” Sehun says, and he crushes Kyungsoo to his body. “I fucking love you.” 

“I love you,” Kyungsoo says, and Sehun is warm, so warm. 

He cuddles into that warmth, takes some and hopefully gives some in return. Sehun presses a kiss to his hair, and Kyungsoo tries not to melt, tries to let the moment sit in ice. Hopefully forever. 

“God, we are the most dysfunctional gays of all time,” Sehun laughs, and he kisses Kyungsoo quickly, three little dots right on the center of his lips. 

“This is the shit that goes viral on Twitter,” Kyungsoo says. 

“What do _you_ know about Twitter?” Sehun asks. 

“Shut up,” Kyungsoo says. “I know about Twitter.” 

“Yes, you’re very hip,” Sehun says, and he kisses Kyungsoo on the nose. 

“Be quiet,” Kyungsoo says, but he doesn’t mean it, and Sehun knows it. 

_Fill my life with your blessed, joyful, colorful noise_ , Kyungsoo thinks. _Because before I met you, I always believed that I liked the silence more. And I’ve never been so happy to be proven wrong._  
  


☆

They dress up just to get undressed.

The walk to the barn is cold, frigid in the middle of the night, but they wear their boots and their scarves and their stupid, mushy love wrapped around them like coats. 

“Come on,” Sehun says.

“Are you sure?” Kyungsoo says. 

“I’m positive,” Sehun says. “Don’t you—” 

“Of course,” Kyungsoo says. “I just—” 

Sehun takes Kyungsoo’s face in his hands, frames Kyungsoo’s jaws with his thumbs. He kisses Kyungsoo so sweetly, so softly. This is the man he will marry. This is the man he will be with for the rest of his life. He sighs into the embrace. 

“Don’t worry,” Sehun says. “It’s okay.” 

And Kyungsoo is a worrier, worries about everything, worries about things obsessively. But when Sehun tells him not to worry, he listens. 

The loft in the barn is furnished simply, a down comforter and two pillows on the queen bed. There isn’t much time to stare, though, because once they are up the small spiral staircase, Sehun is on him, kissing him like he might die without it. And Kyungsoo knows the feeling. 

“I—” Kyungsoo starts when Sehun begins kissing down his neck. “I love you so much. I love you so much, baby. I’ll never love anyone the way I love you.” 

“I love you,” Sehun says, lips against Kyungsoo’s bared collarbone. “I love you, Soo. I’ll love you forever.” 

They lose the words, but words have never been what matters to them. 

Their clothes fall like snowflakes. 

They breathe life to each other, to the fire. 

They set each other ablaze. 

They are a steady burn. 

They are a small spot of heat in a world of cold. Sempiternal. And forever, it blooms.  
  


☆

They barely get out of bed in time to return to the main house before anyone wakes. Sun breaks around them, streaming through the bare trees. Christmas morning even _tastes_ cold as the wind swirls with snow. They shuffle out of their boots and scarves at the door.

Sehun climbs the stairs, and Kyungsoo follows, deftly avoiding the same spots as Sehun to stop the creaks in the floorboards. 

“I’m gonna go tell them,” Sehun whispers. “I’ll meet you in the room, okay? We can shower really fast.” 

“Okay,” Kyungsoo whispers back. 

Sehun turns to separate them, and Kyungsoo almost turns too, but at the last moment, Sehun wheels back around and steals a kiss. 

“You’re my fiancé,” he whispers. 

“You’re _my_ fiancé,” Kyungsoo whispers back. 

“Yeah,” Sehun says against Kyungsoo’s lips, “I am.”

**Author's Note:**

> completely unedited bc i like living on the edge! 
> 
> i hope u enjoyed this nice lil story. i love boys in love. if u liked it, leave me a comment, and i will put ur name in an ornament and hang it on my christmas tree. swear to god. 
> 
> ok, happy holidays!!!!! love u!!!!


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